She Belongs To Fairytales
by Vampgirl620
Summary: After the Patriots are removed from Austin, Charlie finally has time to reflect on her past decisions. In a moment of curiosity, Charlie Matheson reads some personal thoughts of the great Sebastian Monroe. Innocent snooping turns out to reveal more than Charlie ever expected. My first story, so I'm extremely nervous, but I am curious to hear what you all think.
1. Chapter 1

**She Belongs To Fairytales**

**A/N: After the Patriots are removed from Austin, Charlotte finally has time to reflect on her past decisions. In a moment of curiosity, Charlie Matheson reads some personal thoughts of the great Sebastian Monroe. Innocent snooping turns out to reveal more than Charlie ever expected. My first story, so I'm extremely nervous, but I am curious to hear what you all think. The rating is mature for future chapters. I would like to thank Agnes Cornel for letting me barrow her title. I also used a reference to the poem "The Rose of Battle" by William Butler Yeats.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Revolution**

**Chapter One**

"What happens when summer's over?" I ask my uncle as he takes a seat beside me.

"Uh, we win," he says simply.

I look at him quizzically and he groans.

"What?"

I sigh internally. When it comes to fighting and war strategies, most would say Miles Matheson is smart, some would even say he is a genius. However, when it comes to people and relationships, my dear Uncle Miles is clueless.

"Alright! You're clearly not going to say it so I will. I think you and my mom should give it a shot." I pause for a moment to let my words sink in. Then I clarify "A real one."

Miles glances away uncomfortably for a moment then glances back, "Give what a shot?"

I have to resist not rolling my eyes. Does he think I am an idiot? Actually, sometimes he does think I am an idiot when it comes to fighting and killing people. However, when it comes to people, I definitely have more common sense. "Don't be an idiot." I say with a smile.

"Look, I wish things could've been different between me and Jason. And now we'll never get the chance," I say sadly. "You love her. She loves you. It's kind of an open secret. You guys deserve to run off and be happy together."

I see Miles is looking at me hesitantly, as if he is afraid to admit that he loves my mother. I try to calm his nerves, "I'm glad it's you Miles, I want it to be you," I say sternly. I want him to understand that I wholeheartedly want them to be together and be happy. Miles is the only person I have been able to look up to since my dad died, and my mother is the one that makes him happy. Is it a little weird that my uncle will be dating my mother? Yes, it is, but that is what you have to do for the people that you love the most. You have to let them be happy with the people that make them happy.

Miles looks away uncomfortably and says "Thank you kid. That means a lot to me." I can tell he truly means what he is saying; he just does not know how to express how he is feeling. He leans over and suddenly wraps me in a bear hug, "Thank you," he says again then he lets go and says, "I have to go clean up the mess the Patriots made," he says getting up, "Even when we beat them they're still a pain in the ass." Miles leaves and I am left sitting alone to get back to my work.

I get back to the task of weapons maintenance and ponder about what I said to Miles. I told him about Jason, that I wish we were given a shot, and that was true. However, it was not the whole truth. I do feel that Jason and I were robbed of our shot at a relationship, but I don't think we would have been able to adapt to the changing world around us. He wasn't the mysterious stranger who saved me from bandits, and I was definitely not the innocent village girl who craved to see the world and experience adventure. I have seen enough of the world, I have experienced enough adventure, and I would give anything to be that wide-eyed, open – minded girl I was two years ago. No, Jason and I would have never worked even if we were the same people we were two years ago. That is because there is another more mysterious man that intrigues me and seems to understand my every thought.

Yes, Sebastian Monroe is the man I can't seem to stay away from. I am drawn to him like a moth is to a flame, but I can never admit how I feel. My mother blames him for the death of my father and brother, he kept my mother prisoner for years, they call him the Scourge of Scranton, he is responsible for the deaths of thousands, he is twenty-five years older than I am, and he will never think of me as anything but Miles' niece. Sadly, it is the last reason that bothers me the most. I will always be "just a kid," a kid who slept with his son.

Sleeping with Connor Bennett was one of the worst mistakes I have ever made. I slept with him because of my unreturned feelings for his father and after we left Duncan Page's tent. Anyone in the room could tell those two had history and Duncan was going to use that against him. I left the tent with Connor and left the two to their own devices. I still get queasy when I think of what went on in that tent, and at the time, it was too much. Connor had his father's curly hair, similar facial features, and he had his father's attitude. Of course, Bass had mastered his attitude to appear as charm, Connor was just cocky. However, it was still enough. I gave into Connor Bennett because I could not give into Sebastian Monroe. The entire time I wished the eyes I was looking into were blue and I wanted to call out a different name. When Bass found us, I felt the embarrassment of my mistake and I knew that any chance I had of Bass seeing me as anything other than Miles' niece was destroyed. It was even more humiliating when Bass made that stupid comment about how I chose to sleep with a Monroe. I was almost tempted to tell him I chose Connor because I couldn't have him just to see his stupid smirk disappear from his face. I was smarter than that though. I knew that the shock would soon turn to laughter and I could not have Sebastian Monroe laughing at me.

I destroyed any chance I had with Bass, and circumstance destroyed anything else. When I was telling Miles about Jason, I was also talking about Bass. He would never give me a chance and I was too scared to give him one. Therefore, I told Miles to be happy with my mom because not everyone has to be miserable in this world.

I was still working when I heard footsteps approach. I looked up to find a Texas Ranger coming towards me with an apprehensive look on his face. He steps in front of me and says,

"Excuse me Ma'am?"

"Yes"

"Uh, General Monroe said he had intercepted some messages from the Patriots and he wants them translated, and he told me to get them out of his tent. I… I…I don't know where his tent is and I was wondering if you did? He said it was urgent."

No wonder he looked so scared. Most people would be if the man who used to brand his soldiers gave you a direct order.

I stood up and smiled at the ranger, "Don't worry about it. Wait right here, I know where his tent is. I can get it for you."

The ranger smiled back looking much relived. "Thank you Ma'am."

I tell him that I will be about ten minutes and head to where Bass claimed a tent a few hours prior. I entered the small tent and took in my surroundings. In the tent, there was a small cot and makeshift table, along with a backpack I recognized as Bass'. I assumed the messages were in the backpack and walked over to where it was laid. Going through it, I noticed a thermos, a change of clothes, a notebook, some pencils, and a bunch of folded papers. Still holding the bag, I pulled the papers out and opened them, revealing that they were the Patriot messages. I went to refold the papers when the bag slipped and all its contents spilled out of it. Damn it! Bass is going to be pissed at the poor ranger if he finds his stuff out of place. I scrambled to put everything back in its place when I reached for the notebook. I swear the thing fell face open on the ground and it caught my eye.

They were poems. Moreover, they were all in Bass' handwriting. Holy shit! The big, bad, General Sebastian Monroe writes poetry. This is the most laughable thing I have ever come across. I glance around the empty tent. I am so tempted to read this. I know poems can be personal, but I crave to understand his mind, for he is the biggest mystery I have ever encountered. It has only been five minutes since I left the ranger. I told him ten, so I have five minutes left. That's enough for one little poem. Besides how much can one poem reveal? I pick up the notebook and started to read.

_**She Belongs To Fairytales**_

_She belongs to fairytales,_

_Her beauty all too great_

_And stubbornness that prevails,_

_Her mind always in a calm state._

_Her blue eyes like the sky,_

_Skin a perfect brown,_

_Her golden hair passes me by_

_Flowing around, a golden crown._

_She shows no fear,_

_I cannot ignore_

_When she is near,_

_It is her I adore,_

_It is her I desire_

_My feelings more than dire._

_She belongs to fairytales,_

_Her charming, young prince,_

_Rescuing her on his white steed,_

_With dark eyes and dark curls,_

_And everything else she will need._

_Oh, I wish those dark eyes were blue,_

_And I wish his hair was lighter too,_

_And I wish it was me she kissed goodbye,_

_When it is time to turn in at night._

_She belongs to fairytales,_

_Her name on my lips is a lovely caress,_

_She deserves more than what we offer,_

_But I try to give her my best._

_I want to hold her blue eyes to mine,_

_And sigh into her neck,_

_And give her a mark she'll never forget._

_I want my touch to make her shiver,_

_Make her tremble make her quiver,_

_Make her feel this way forever._

_She doesn't know how much I want to hold her,_

_Look into her eyes and say,_

_I've wanted no one else, but her._

_It is hopeless._

_I understand._

_I am nothing more than just a man,_

_A man that has caused her pain._

_It's enough to go insane._

_But, that is how this all started,_

_When my purpose completely parted._

_She belongs to fairytales_

_My whole life was meant for her._

_To keep her safe is all I've ever wanted,_

_A destiny fate has prompted._

_She belongs to fairytales,_

_We can never be,_

_She belongs to fairytales,_

_The sweet far thing._

_She belongs to fairytales,_

_I need her so,_

_And all I have to show_

_Is this silly, silly poem._

_She belongs to fairytales_

_This princess of mine,_

_She belongs to fairytales_

_This Charlotte of mine._

Oh. My. God. This entire poem is about me. Sebastian Monroe wrote an entire poem about me. I'm in shock. The poem was beautiful and vulnerable. It is hard to connect the man who wrote this poem to the man who was an insane dictator of an entire republic almost two years ago. After processing this information, I realized another big detail that this poem reveals. Sebastian Monroe thinks I'm beautiful, amazing, and as stated in the poem, wants to "give me a mark I'll never forget." That thought made me shiver, in the best possible way. I put the notebook back into the bag and grab the messages. Leaving the tent, I pondered on my previous thoughts about Bass' poetry. How much could one poem reveal? I was wrong. One poem can reveal too much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I found the ranger right where I had left him. He seemed extremely relieved when I arrived with the messages and gave me a huge smile.

"Thank you Ma'am. I really appreciate this."

"No problem. Don't let General Monroe scare you too much. He doesn't have free reign over the rangers like he did with his militia."

"Thank you Ma'am, but I prefer to keep my limbs and do as I'm told."

"Call me Charlie please, and sometimes staying in your place is for the best, I guess," I said sadly. I have been trying to gain respect as a fighter from Miles and Bass for a year now and the only progress I've made is the occasional "good job kid" from Miles. In the back of my mind, my thoughts whispered that I didn't stay in my place back in Bass' tent. It has only been a few minutes since I read the poem and I am already feeling uneasy. I am excited that he has those feelings for me, but I also feel a little guilty because he had not intended for those thoughts to be shared, especially to me.

The ranger smiled at me and I noticed he had a nice smile. Actually, he was very nice in appearance overall. He had dark brown hair, light brown eyes, and a handsome face. He couldn't be much older than I was, but he had the innocence that I had before my dad died and I left to find Miles.

"I can agree with that. Anyway Charlie, I'd best be getting back to General Monroe." He turned to walk away before I called out to him, "Hey! I didn't catch your name."

He turned around and called out "My name is Chase, Chase Evans." Then he ran off to find Bass.

I turned around and decided I had had enough of sharpening knifes and cleaning weapons for the day. I grabbed my crossbow and decided a good hunt would clear my head. The hunt was long and slow; however, the weather was clear with blue skies and the crisp end of spring air. It was nice walking with no purpose or with a price on my head. Even in my months of travels after the tower, I had a purpose, a destination, an idea of where I was going. To enjoy the outside aimlessly was a gift that I was fully appreciating. I had given up all pretense of hunting and just enjoyed existing. I have wanted to do this since Tom Neville placed the gun to the side of my head and pulled the trigger. I came back to life that day. The shots from the helicopter that ripped through Danny killed me, and unlike Danny, I had to keep on living, breathing, and moving. The day Tom pulled the trigger on me I realized that living aimlessly without purpose is the worst kind of living. The kind of living I knew Danny would not want for me.

**...**

One week has passed since the tent incident. One very long, slow, endless week. We're all still in Austin. Miles says we are "strategizing" and that "it will take some time before we have concrete plans" were his exact words. Last week I loved the aimless wandering and spending my days doing whatever pleased me. Now I am feeling restless and bored. I want- no- I need to fight again. I need to feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins and the relief of surviving. I honestly am tired of adventure, and at the same time I miss the rush I felt. I feel confused about what I want.

Speaking of not knowing what I want, I spy a certain general talking to a bunch of Texas big shots. I can tell from fifty feet that he is laying on the charm nice and thick. He has that smile, the one he uses when he's trying to pick up a woman. Apparently, that smile is a multipurpose tool that reaches all kinds of people. He has never used that smile with me. The few times Sebastian Monroe has ever smiled at me, they were sad, haunted smiles. The man that I know is so different from the man that wrote that poem. I wish to see more of the latter.

As if sensing I'm staring at him, Sebastian's eyes lock with mine and I feel a jolt run through my body. This must be that spark they talked about in those old romance novels I would steal from under Maggie's bed. I never had that kind of spark with Jason, and certainly not with Connor. I am still thinking about sparks when Sebastian starts walking towards me. He walks with that swagger that only he could master, the kind that oozes sex appeal.

"You like what you see Charlotte?" He asks as he finally reaches me.

"Nope, just thinking that those Texan officials must be pretty dumb if you can charm them so easily," I retort. Of course I don't truly mean what I am saying. I know those men were obviously intelligent, they just don't realize that Sebastian Monroe is so much smarter.

" So you were watching me so intensely because you question the other men's intellect?" He continues to push.

I have to change the subject. Fast.

"What do you want Monroe?"

His eyes harden slightly as he slips back into his serious persona.

"I want you to keep an eye on the camp while I'm in a meeting with Blanchard," he finally states.

"Why don't you just ask Miles? You can probably trust him more than you can trust me."

"Miles will be in the meeting with me," he say exasperated. "Let me rephrase, Miles and I need you to keep an eye on the camp while we are in a meeting."

This is a weird request. Miles and Bass have been in meetings all week. A few times, they left camp for hours and never felt the need to ask me to keep an eye on things. I tell him my suspicions about this request, which he reluctantly answered.

"There have been some Patriot sightings near Austin and I just want to make sure that no one sneaks by."

"Why don't you tell the entire camp about this? I'm sure that everyone else can keep better track of strangers then just me alone.

The look in his eyes soften once more.

"I'm sure your right, but Miles and I don't trust the entire camp, we trust you. You've been exploring the camp the whole time Miles and I have been busy. We know you will recognize anyone suspicious."

My heart soared. Sebastian Monroe just said he trusted me. What feels so important about this statement is that he told me face to face, about what he felt. I didn't have to find out from some poem. Damn it! Thinking about the poem brought a blush to my cheeks. I can see that he noticed. He probably thinks I'm blushing about him trusting me. Okay, I need to get out of here before this ends badly.

"Okay, I can do that; have fun at your meeting."

I quickly turn around and head towards the main entrance to the camp. It seems like the most logical place to start. I can feel Sebastian's eyes on me as I walk away. I know he thinks something is up; I just don't have a good explanation for him. I hope he forgets the whole encounter, but if I know Sebastian at all, I know I won't be so lucky.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello everyone. I know it took me forever updating the second chapter, but I was feeling inspired last night and finished chapter 3. I was going to wait until some time this week to update, but decided since you all were so patient with me I decided to update today. Let me know what you all think and please review. I also forgot my disclaimer before the second chapter so this will count towards both.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Revolution or any of its characters. If I did, Charlie and Bass would've happened in the first season.**

**Chapter 3**

Playing spy for Sebastian and Miles was as eventful as watching grass grow. Soldiers milled around with their daily chores with the same unenthusiastic expression as everyone else. Supply deliveries came and went, with the same people that brought them the entire week. I didn't see anyone new, and everyone did what he or she was supposed to do. I might have been annoyingly thorough with watching the camp, but I wanted to make sure I didn't let Miles or Sebastian down. I was rummaging through the new supplies looking for anything unusual when I was interrupted.

"So, are you just extremely nosy, or are you looking for something in particular?"

I turn around to find Chase standing at the opening of the supply tent watching me with a curious smile on his lips. I return his smile with a shy one of my own.

"I wanted extra bows for my crossbow. I could make some of my own, but it would be so much easier if I could just borrow some from the supply tent. I didn't think anyone would miss them." I am pleased how quickly the lie spills from my lips. Miles always said I was a terrible liar. However, now that I think about it, I do need more bows, so technically it's not a lie.

"Okay, let me help," he says confidently.

"No it's fine, I will find it eventually."

"Why not? With two people looking we're bound to find it faster than just you looking alone."

I look at him quizzically. I guess helping me wouldn't cause any harm, and if he's looking, I can get through the supplies faster.

"Okay. Pick a box and get started," I order.

He picks the box right next to mine. Great, now I can see everything he finds, which makes my job easier. After a few minutes of silence, Chase looks over.

"So, how do you like Austin?"

The innocent question almost makes me flinch. The camp is on the outskirts of Austin; far enough that I can pretend I'm in a different place, but the memories of Jason's death still feel raw and only just beginning to heal.

"It's nice. The other rangers don't seem to be as welcoming as you." I convey. The rangers are kind, but extremely professional.

"Well, you make them nervous."

"What? Why would I make them nervous?" This is something I've never encountered. Most of the people are unfazed by my presence. Then I kick their asses.

"Well, your Miles Matheson's niece, right?"

"Yes."

"And haven't you've been trained to fight by both General Matheson and General Monroe?"

"Yes"

"And weren't your parents super genius scientists before the blackout?"

"Yes." I'd love to see his face if I told him that my parents actually caused the blackout. Just imagining his shocked expression is priceless.

"There you go. Take into account that you are also extremely smart and attractive and you will understand that you can be very intimidating to the other troops." He says plainly.

"So if I'm so intimidating, why are you here helping me look for supplies that may or may not be here?" I ask coyly. Yes, I know I'm flirting, but I can't resist knowing his answer.

He looks straight into my eyes and says, "Because I find you to be the most interesting creature to ever walk through this camp. I had to find some way to talk to you."

"A creature? I've never been compared to that before. Do I have eight tentacles and a dragon's head?" I joke around trying to deflect that what he said is making me blush.

"No, not like that. See, my mom used to tell me these stories from old Greek mythology, and one of my favorite stories were about the sirens. I always wondered how something could be so hypnotic that just their voices captivated someone so completely. Then I met you and I could tell you were not only beautiful, but your strength was something out of bedtime stories. I wanted to get to know you."

There it was again. Someone comparing me to fantasies, as if I'm unreal. It made me sad that I was so unapproachable, but Chase is making an effort unlike some people. I was disrupted from my train of thought by a coughing noise.

I snapped my head towards to the opening of the tent to find Sebastian standing there with that scary, stoic look on his face. Chase immediately straightened and stiffly saluted to General Monroe. I had to suppress the laugh that came bubbling from my throat. I realize that generals are supposed to be highly respected and feared and all, but to me, the general façade had faded when he saved my life so many times, and all that was left was my Sebastian. Wait? When did he become "my Sebastian"? Thinking like that is going to get me in trouble.

Sebastian moves deeper into the tent playing up the cold, heartless manner.

"Ranger Evans? Is it?" He inquires.

"Yes"

"I did not know your job description involved wasting your days shamelessly flirting while others picked up your slack?"

Chase remained silent, and who could blame him? Responding could get him in even more trouble and make the situation worse.

"I suggest you get back to your assigned station"

Chase immediately exited the tent leaving me alone with Sebastian.

"What the hell Monroe? He was helping me with something. You didn't need to be so rude."

"Charlotte, he was trying to get into your pants. The last thing Miles and I need is worrying about some unsettling rumors about your sleeping habits."

"Excuse me? I seem to recall countless stories of your late night conquests from Miles. You cannot judge me on my personal life nor do you have the right to interfere with who it involves."

"Come on Charlotte? You don't possibly believe that crap he was saying about the creatures. He was charming you. It's what guys do."

"It was not charm! It was being honest. I found it to be bold and endearing."

"It was laughable."

"It's more than what most people are willing to say to me."

"Do you really believe that crap about the other rangers being intimidated by you?" He scrutinizes.

I turn back around and continue to rummage through the supplies. "How long were you standing there anyway?"

"Long enough." He states.

"Okay." I turn back and pretend to ignore him. My anger has subsided and now I am feeling the full effect of his presence. His smell is intoxicating, his blue eyes have this way of paralyzing me, and that scruffy look he's acquired does all kinds of crazy things to me.

"I don't think the rangers find you intimidating," he says after a minute of silence. "You are a woman Charlotte, a complex woman. The rangers are all boys that wouldn't know up from down when it comes to women like you. You need a special kind of man to satisfy you, and a boy wouldn't know how. These rangers will admire you, they will fantasize about you, but they know they don't stand a chance.

I freeze, and then promptly say, "Well, Chase seems to be doing more than just admiring. He must be a man then."

Sebastian laughs. "Chase is a boy biting off more than he can chew. You know and I know he won't last."

I know deep down it is true, but I feel that anger rise up in me again. How can he say these things to me, and not act on his own feelings. He has me in a constant tizzy from just looking at me. I don't understand how we have these feelings for each other, yet we can't seem to get past this phase of extended gazes and unintentional touches. It drives me crazy.

It is in this moment I realize something crucial. We both have these feelings for each other. Who makes the first move shouldn't matter. What does it say about me that I know how he feels about me, yet I do nothing to show him that I feel the same way? I cough from my discomfort before choking out "So what about you?"

"What about me?"

"What do you consider yourself, a boy or a man?" I turn around and lock eyes with him.

His face changes to form a self-confident expression and he proudly says, "I like to consider myself a man."

For the first time in my life, I give Sebastian Monroe my coy, flirtatious smile. Before I can even speak, he understands he just made a mistake. I'm doing victory cartwheels in my mind. "So, if you are such a man, then why haven't you done anything about your feelings for me?"

There! I finally put it out in the open. He knows I know. However, I know he will try to deny it, but that's okay because I know what he is thinking.

His face actually has a flustered, panicked look that would've been funny under any other circumstance. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Oh, but you do," I say. "I know what you think of me. You think I'm just as hypnotic as Chase says I am. The only difference is he is willing to do something. What does that say about you, Sebastian?"

He looks like he's about to deflect the conversation, but finally gives up. With a heavy sigh, he says, "It says that I'm not stupid enough to get involved with my best friend's niece."

I laugh. "Miles is always telling me to keep my stupid to a minimum." I take a step towards him.

"You should listen to him."

"I do, but I just can't seem to get it under control." I take another step closer.

"You should work on that. I've been working on acting smarter. I think I've been getting better too."

I'm finally close to him, stand only an inch apart. I've decided it's now or never. I lean in and whisper, "Well then, I guess I'm just going to have to be stupid enough for the both of us." With that, I close the gap between us and press my lips to his.

The moment my lips touch his, my world explodes. I remember when I was little, before the blackout, when people lit fireworks for New Years and the Fourth of July. That's how I feel in this moment. Sebastian instantly responds, and soon I have lost all control of the kiss. His mouth dominates mine as his tongue delves gently in my mouth, and he is tugging me closer to him. His hands are slowly sliding down the side of my body when I let out a moan. This seems to be a mistake because just as quickly as the kiss has heated up - it is over. Sebastian pulls away and steps backward. He looks confused and a little frightened by the kiss. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and leaves the tent. He leaves, leaving me frustrated.


End file.
